


All An Act

by ch3rryvodk4



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Cast/Crew AU, F/M, Fluff, Lams endgame, M/M, Movie AU, Pining, brief Alexander/Maria Reynolds, potentially bad French
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-07-16 19:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7282282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ch3rryvodk4/pseuds/ch3rryvodk4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Alexander Hamilton, semi-famous actor from the French Caribbean, is discovered by prestigious director Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette and brought to America to star in his first English movie, and when he meets the rest of the cast and crew, his world will never be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to America

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters will probably start out shorter, but get longer as I get more into the story  
> Also, please tell me if you find any consistency/grammar/etc errors and I will do my best to fix them ^^;

“We’ll be landing in LaGuardia Airport in approximately one hour,” a voice said over the airplane intercom. “The local time is 10:34pm. Please remain in your seats with your seatbelts fastened until the captain has turned off the seatbelt sign.” 

Alexander Hamilton fidgeted in his seat. He remained grateful that the turbulence hadn’t been bad on his flight from the Caribbean. He didn’t think he would have been able to remain calm, breathing exercises be damned, had the plane been rocking with any severity. He looked over the folder of papers Lafayette had given him: all of the names and phone numbers of everyone he would need to know, the name of the hotel, a map of the city, directions to and from his hotel and where the job would be, good local places to eat, shop, sightsee, and more. He slid the papers back in his manila envelope and nervously fingered the plastic card Lafayette had given him. Spending money, to keep him on his feet until he started getting paid. He kept himself busy memorizing names, numbers, times, places, anything to keep his mind occupied. He’d filled the blank journal he’d brought with him already and made a mental note to find a place to buy more as soon as he’d had a chance to get some rest. 

—

Once the plane landed, the voice on the intercom informed all the passengers to remain seated until they were at the gate and at which luggage carousel they could find the belongings they had checked. Alexander followed people he recognized from his flight to the baggage claim, too tired to retain the information on his own. He powered his phone back on to check the time while he waited for the bags to start coming out. 

Twenty-two minutes, two large suitcases, and a duffle bag later, Alexander had every worldly possession that mattered enough to him to bring over to his new life. Lafayette had said he had set Alexander up with a hotel for now, but once his first paycheck came through, he could find an apartment for himself. Speaking of Laf, he began to look around the airport. The flight took only a little over four hours, and the time zone had not changed, but the stress of his last few days were very quickly wearing him down. Travel unnerved him, and he had been so busy that he had eschewed sleep for several nights. He found that he was actually rather looking forward to a warm bed. 

" _Monsieur Hamilton_!” Alexander whirled around, looking for the source of the voice. The assailant grabbed him from behind and hugged him. “It is very good to see you again, _mon ami_!” 

“You, too, Lafayette,” Alexander replied, somewhat breathlessly. Lafayette released him and he turned to face his beaming friend. Lafayette’s dark hair was tied up in a ponytail, several frizzy flyaways framing his face. 

“You have your things, yes?” 

Alexander nodded and placed a hand on each of the handles of his suitcases. “All present and accounted for.” 

" _Très bien_! This way,” Lafayette said, motioning for Alexander to follow him. “Do you need any help with your bags?” Alexander didn’t answer quickly enough, and Lafayette took a suitcase and a duffle bag from him. “I managed to slip away from work for the evening,” he explained, “so I may personally take you to the hotel and ensure that you are comfortable. I will get you in touch with some of your colleagues tomorrow; I am sure they will take good care of you. We are a family, Alex.” Lafayette asked Alexander about his flight, attempting to make small talk. When the man could barely keep his eyes open, let alone formulate a response, Lafayette laughed. “No worries; it is late, and you have traveled far. Rest for now.” Lafayette led them to his car, where he helped Alexander with his luggage and drove them to the hotel. 

The next hour or so passed in a hazy, dreamlike state. Lafayette and someone else - a bellboy? - managed his bags and pressed a white keycard, the name of the hotel printed across one side. Lafayette helped him to his room and asked him something, to which Alexander must have responded suitably because he was being clapped on the back and instructed to text Lafayette the next morning, or whenever Alexander next woke up. He barely managed to toe off his shoes before falling asleep on the bed. He’d made it to America. That was all that mattered for now. 

Alexander had never considered being an actor when he was younger. He had wanted to make a difference. But someone had seen him speak and asked if he had ever acted before. He had a fire, the man had said. A kind of passion you needed in the industry to be successful. Alexander had said no, but the man shrugged and offered him a business card, saying he would be more than happy to give Alexander an audition should he ever find himself in need of a few extra dollars. 

The first job had been easy. The audition was rough, but Alexander found that once he understood his character and their motivations, he really got into it. He could be someone other than himself. Suddenly, he was someone who wasn’t weighed down by their circumstances. He was praised by those he worked with for doing as well as he did for a newbie. Suddenly, paychecks were a regular thing. He put some of it into lessons, knowing there was only so far he could get with just direction and an internal flame. He realized that acting could be his way out. 

In only a few years, he’d gotten his first job outside of the Caribbean. He was flown into France for a proper ‘international film’. It went well and he was introduced to people he’d heard of before, who had reputations for being important; writers, directors, casters, actors, producers. He started to move around more; France, Belgium, and the French-speaking islands he’d grown up on all had jobs for him, year-round. People knew his name. Newer actors asked him for tips. He was invited to film festivals and girls asked for autographs. It was a kind of recognition he never thought he would ever have. Surely, it didn’t get much better. Until he met Lafayette. 

His full name was Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette, but he laughed as Alexander mumbled it back to himself, obviously trying to dedicate it to memory. _“Mon ami,_ do not worry. Everyone calls me Lafayette. I have heard promising things about you. I am a director, working on a film in America, and I would like for you to play a role in it.” 

“America?” Alexander asked, nervous. “Want kind of film?” 

“It would be in English, if that is your concern,” Lafayette replied. “But I feel you would be well-suited to the role, and it would be an honor to work with you.” He handed Alexander his business card then, and smiled. “Call me if you have any questions, _s'il vous plaît_." 

And now Alexander stood on the balcony of a hotel room in Manhattan, at eleven in the morning, overlooking the city that never slept. Powering on his phone, he went through new texts he’d received while he’d been asleep; Lafayette telling him when they needed to meet up next, and a number of unknown numbers all introducing themselves and offering to take Alexander around the city. He added each one to his contacts and scrolled through the texts. 

_Hercules Mulligan: hey kid just let me know if you need to go shopping_

_Hercules Mulligan: i know everyone around here i can hook you up_

_Peggy Schuyler: hello alexander! my sisters and I would love to take you out to lunch today, if you’re free!_

_Peggy Schuyler: and we’d be more than happy to show you around nyc too_

_Peggy Schuyler: lafayette’s told us a lot ;)_

_Aaron Burr: Lafayette says we should get to know each other before we start rehearsal._

_John Laurens: we should go out for drinks_

_John Laurens: best way to get close with a new costar_

_John Laurens: esp if said costar is about to be playing your rival >:) _

__

Alexander took a deep breath, processing the sudden influx of messages. He’d gotten close with fellow cast members before, but it was almost never more than superficial. They were usually great people, they just didn’t connect with Alex enough to be worth keeping in touch with after the movie. These people seemed to have decided from the get-go that they were all part of a family, just by virtue of working on the same movie. 

_To Peggy Schuyler: sounds great! did lafayette give you my address? I would love to do something this afternoon, but I really dont know the city._

_Peggy Schuyler: yup! leave it up to us. see you in the lobby at 2?_

_To Peggy Schuyler: I look forward to it._

Alex worried his lip as he held his phone, debating whether or not to make additional plans. But Lafayette had said that they were like family on set, and he should get to know everyone. Plus, rehearsal would start soon, so he only had so long to socialize before they all got to work. 

_To John Laurens: I could use a drink or two. or seven._

_John Laurens: a man after my own heart!_

_John Laurens: laf says your hotel has a great bar, if you dont mind staying local_

_To John Laurens: not at all. hows 9?_

_John Laurens: its a date ;*_

Alexander Hamilton thought that he was really going to like America. 


	2. The Schuyler Sisters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander meets the Schuyler sisters (and their cousin, Maria, who might as well be a sister).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, but I'm doing all the 'Alexander meets ______' chapters one at a time, and they're the toughest for me, so we'll pick it up once shooting starts. Once again, let me know if I've messed anything up, and feel free to drop a comment; they make my day <3

One long hot shower later, Alexander felt fresh and awake and ready to tackle New York City. He still had a couple of hours before Peggy Schuyler was supposed to pick him up for lunch, so he decided to venture out of the hotel. It was relatively commercial, so it didn’t take long to find a stationery store. He looked at the journals, deliberating over which particular leather bound book to buy. He eventually chose a dark brown one with a small gold clasp. He paid for it with the card Lafayette had given him and left. 

He still tended to be frugal with his finances - the pure survival instinct portion of his brain warned him that he should know from experience how quickly one’s circumstances can become disastrous - but he did enjoy window shopping. He figured he’d let Hercules Mulligan take him around and get some new clothes. A new job, especially one with such a big paycheck, made him feel a little more secure in splurging on something fun. Besides, it might be nice, to spend the day doing something the other man seemed to enjoy. 

_To Hercules Mulligan: I think I might be in need of a new wardrobe, if youre up for a challenge_

_Hercules Mulligan: im always up for a challenge, my man_

_To Hercules Mulligan: John Laurens is taking me out for drinks tonight, so I dont know how alive Im gonna feel tomorrow_

_To Hercules Mulligan: but Ill let you know?_

_Hercules Mulligan: damn laurens pouncing already_

_Hercules Mulligan: get it, kid! text me once youre up to moving again ;)_

Alexander felt his face go pink. He hadn’t even met any of these people in person yet and already felt the sexual tension. He laughed. This was going to be fun. He made his way back to the hotel and cleaned himself up. The Schuylers should be on their way to get him now, so he figured he’d start writing in his new journal while he waited. He wrote about his flight, about his morning, and about his thoughts on the cast and crew members he’d interacted with so far. 

The sound of the room’s telephone ringing snapped Alexander from his thoughts, and he stumbled to pick up. “Hello?” 

A woman’s voice answered him. “Alexander? It’s Peggy. We’re down in the lobby,” she said. 

“Oh, of course. On my way.” He hung up the phone and made his way down to meet her. He realized upon entering the lobby that he had no idea what his lunch date or her sisters looked like. A quartet of girls approached him, one in a long turquoise dress with her dark hair falling just below her shoulders, one in a short yellow sundress and her curly hair tied up in a ponytail, the third in a long peach shirt and jeans, and the fourth in a flowing red dress with deep red lipstick to match. The one in yellow approached him. “Alexander?” 

Alexander relaxed and grinned. “Yeah, that’s me. I take it you’re Peggy Schuyler?” 

She grinned. “That I am. And these are my sisters. Eliza,” the one in turquoise smiled warmly. “and Angelica,” the woman in peach tipped her head towards Alexander in acknowledgement. “We’re the Schuyler sisters. Plus our cousin Maria.” 

“It’s a pleasure,” Alexander said, smiling at each of them. “Are all four of you working on the movie?” 

Peggy shook her head, her curls bouncing all over her shoulders. “Just me and Ange. Eliza’s kind of our pom-pom girl, and Maria’s in New York for a couple of modeling jobs. Our dad’s loaded enough that none of us really _have_ to work, but it’s good to keep us busy and it feels good to provide for yourself.” 

“You make it sound like I do nothing all day,” Eliza said, rolling her eyes. “I work with nonprofits; mostly orphanages. The three of us were adopted, you know, so it’s really just serendipitous that we have the life we do. It only feels right that I try to give back to the kids that are growing up like we did,” she explained. 

Alexander nodded. He knew all too well what it was like to grow up without parents, without knowing where his next _anything_ was coming from. “So, where are you taking me?” 

Peggy hooked her arm in his and started walking, her sisters flanking them on either side. “We’re about to change your life.” 

Angelica rolled her eyes. “I really doubt going to a restaurant is going to change his life.” 

Peggy harrumphed and pulled her soft pink lips into a pout. “Laf said he’d never been to America before. We don’t know what his exposure to American cuisine has been. For all we know, we could be about to change his life.” 

Eliza laughed. “Be honest, Peggy, the only exclusively ‘American’ cuisine is corn dogs and cotton candy. Which, while delicious, don’t do much for anyone in the way of epiphanies, save the ones regarding one’s sudden proximity to type two diabetes.” 

Alexander couldn’t help but smile at that. He could already tell that he was going to get along with the Schuylers quite nicely. They took him to a local hole-in-the-wall restaurant with a comfortable atmosphere and good food. They made small talk about what brought them to do the work that they did - Peggy was an actress in the movie, Angelica was on the legal team - and so on and so forth. The Schuylers were comfortable to be around. Angelica seemed scary at first but Alexander found that her sense of humor was just darker than her sisters’ and she was more protective than aggressive. Eliza was kind and bubbly and felt like an immediate friend to him. Peggy was sweet and somewhat mischievous, but still comfortable to talk to. Maria was stunning, and the way she carried herself alone proved to Alexander that she was a model. She was interesting, though; he could have sworn she had been making eyes at him across the table, but it was also fairly dim and he couldn’t be sure. 

The five of them went walking through the city after that. Eliza showed him the orphanage where she spent much of her time, “The Graham Windham. It’s been open for over two hundred years,” she had declared. They went around showing Alexander their favorite parks, coffee shops and their apartment. “You’re welcome to stop by, anytime,” Maria had told him, her mouth close to his ear. “I’m staying with my cousins, but I tend to be at home a little more often if you happen to drop by.” At that, Alexander had just swallowed and nodded dumbly. It got to be seven a lot faster than Alexander had thought seemed realistic, and he bid the Schuylers goodbye after they walked him back to his hotel. Eliza, Angelica, and Maria each gave him their phone number, and Maria kissed his cheek good-bye, leaving a stain on his face that very closely matched the blush that was very quickly rising. They parted ways and Alexander went back up to his room to clean up before meeting John Laurens for drinks. Day one in New York was proving to be an exceptional one. He hoped beyond hope that it was perhaps setting a precedent for the days to come. 


	3. Enter One John Laurens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night out with John Laurens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all like it! Please let me know in the comments if you liked it, hated it, have theories about where it's going next (I only have a couple chapters written advance at any given time, so who knows)

Alexander spent his time waiting for John unpacking. He would be staying here until he got his own place, which wouldn’t happen until he started getting paid for the movie. He was endlessly grateful that Lafayette had done most of the work regarding his visa; he’d heard more than his fair share of horror stories regarding immigration to America going awry. He was a messy person in his day-to-day, always rushing and prioritizing accomplishing _anything_ else over cleaning, but when he had the time, he preferred his personal space to be neat. He was meticulous in putting away his things, the act providing him the additional comfort of something to keep his hands and mind too busy to become nervous. By eight-thirty, he found himself too busy thinking to keep working. He grabbed his phone and made his way downstairs, firing off a message to John has he did so. 

_To John Laurens: Im bored; mind if I start drinking without you?_

_John Laurens: terribly. im offended you would even ask me that._

Alexander chuckled to himself and ordered a drink anyway. “Whatever’s good here. I’m coming from France, _ami_ , I do not know what the American thing to order is,” he told the bartender, who grinned and raised an eyebrow at him, returning a moment later with what he assured Alexander was ‘the best beer they had’. 

_To John Laurens: forgive me, then._

_To John Laurens: my hand slipped, and the alcohol fell into my mouth. I was powerless to stop it._

_John Laurens: well, when you put it like that, i guess i cant hold it against you, now can i?_

_To John Laurens: Im afraid not. youll just have to get here faster and catch up._

_John Laurens: is that a challenge, french boy??_

_To John Laurens: oui._

Alexander grinned at his phone screen and continued drinking, albeit slower now. It wasn’t long before someone new came into the bar, looking around as if for someone. He pulled his phone out and typed something. Alexander’s phone pinged. 

_John Laurens: im here. where are you?_

_To John Laurens: Im at the bar. come on, Im only one drink in so far._

Alexander turned and watched as the man at the door smiled at his phone before shutting it off and walking towards him. As he got closer, he entered a pool of light, and suddenly Alexander’s heart was in his throat. No one had told him that John Laurens would be drop dead gorgeous, with those freckles dusted over his face like constellations, his green eyes, and those _curls._ He tripped getting out of his chair to greet him, nearly falling into the man. “Alexander Hamilton,” he said quickly, his mouth fumbling with the sounds. He bit his lip nervously as he stuck out his hand for John to shake. 

John laughed and took it, his hand warm and firm. “John Laurens,” he said, “but I think you knew that. You can just call me Laurens, by the way. There are a lot of other Johns on set, so last names tend to be easier.” Alexander nodded hurriedly and took his seat again, gesturing to the one next to him with a flourish. “Thanks, man.” He ordered ‘whatever Alexander’s having’ and folded his arms over the bar, turning to smile at Alexander. 

Alexander hoped he could blame his blush on the alcohol, but had a sneaking suspicion that he’d be teased for it either way. “So,” he began, trying to regain his composure, “are you always this late to the party?” 

John took a gulp of his beer and shrugged. “Not usually. I tend to get there pretty early on when I know cute guys are involved.” He winked at Alexander. 

Alexander felt his face go even redder. He turned to his drink instead, hoping to quench the part of him that was so easily flustered with alcohol. “Well, no one told me to expect a tall drink of water like you.” 

John chortled at that and nearly spit his drink across the bar. “Alexander Hamilton, did you _really_ just say that? Out loud? On purpose?” He tapped Alexander’s forehead. “You must be more drunk than I thought. And here I was led to believe you Frenchmen could handle your liquor.” 

“The liquor I can tolerate just fine. It’s the cute costar thing I’m struggling with,” he admitted, squirming uncomfortably. “I mean, you’re objectively attractive, I guess, to someone who likes curls and freckles and green eyes and toned muscles and a very objectively beautiful body,” he rambled, only cutting himself off when he realized he had started to salivate. 

His speech earned him a raised eyebrow and a bemused look from John. “But only objectively, right? Hypothetically?” 

Alexander mumbled something incoherent into his drink and chugged the rest, calling the bartender over for a refill. “Come on, are you just going to sit there and nurse that all night?” he challenged. 

A fire was lit behind John’s eyes and he wordlessly accepted Alexander’s challenge. He knocked back all of his drink in one go and slammed the glass down on the bar, motioning the bartender over. “I’ll drink you under the table, pretty boy.” 

“I’d rather be under _you,_ but to each his own,” Alexander quipped, gulping down more beer. He found that he didn’t mind the stuff, but wasn’t particularly fond of it. Still, it made his throat and chest warm and his head fluttery, so it was fulfilling its duty. 

It was John’s turn to flush red. “Yeah?” he asked, catching his bottom lip with his teeth. He drank deeply, but maintained eye contact with Alexander the whole time, even as he wiped his mouth with his arm. “Can’t say I wouldn’t like to see that. Does the rest of you turn this red, too?” 

Alexander rolled his eyes, the alcohol making him braver and giving him some immunity to John’s flirtations. That’s all it was, after all, like a game of chicken. They could say whatever they wanted, but as soon as their heads cleared, it would be in the past, treated like a joke or ignored entirely. They were just two people, testing each other, getting to learn one another by pushing their boundaries, prodding for the breaking point. “You’ll just have to find out.” 

The next couple hours continued like that, with alternating periods of rapid-fire flirting and innuendo, and more calm, albeit somewhat tipsy, conversation about pasts and presents and hopeful futures. John was from South Carolina, and became an actor against all of his father’s wishes, but eventually made enough money that it didn’t matter when he was disowned for coming out. He was an artist, too, but it was a hobby rather than a career pursuit. They barely noticed the time pass, the only indication being the rapidly dwindling population in the bar. Though the bar stayed open fairly late, the atmosphere became lonely when it was only the two of them, give or take a couple of quiet loners. 

“My room’s just upstairs,” Alexander murmured. “We don’t have to do anything, just… sit with me. I don’t want you to go just yet.” He slid his keycard over to the bartender so he’d know where to charge the drinks, and when he’d finished they stumbled out of the bar and into the elevator. Alexander found himself toying with John’s shirt absently, his eyes transfixed on John’s neck. He could feel the heat radiating from the other man, and he wasn’t sure whether it was him or the alcohol that was making him feel dizzier. 

“Hey,” John said, tilting Alexander’s chin upwards so that they were making eye contact. “You’re pretty too. Objectively.” A goofy grin overtook his face, brightening his features. Alexander couldn’t help but grin widely in return. 

They somehow remained upright all the way to Alexander’s room, though with some amount of leaning on the walls and each for support. When they got to Alexander’s room they pushed the door open and half-fell in, managing to get to the couch in the living room of the space before collapsing on top of each other. They both laughed breathlessly, John atop Alexander and pushing the black hair out of the man’s face. Alexander did the same for him, tucking dark curls gingerly behind his ear. John let out a soft breath and dropped his forehead to rest on Alexander’s. They stayed like that for a few minutes, just sharing breaths and heartbeats. Finally, Alexander pushed John off of him and they sat side by side. “TV?” he offered, a lopsided grin on his face. 

John giggled. “Yeah, man, totally.” They groped around until Alexander found the remote for the room’s television and clicking it on. They found what was obviously a cheesy romcom and the pair settled comfortably into the couch, John’s arm across the back of the couch and Alexander pressed against his side. They watched the rest of the movie, making only half-coherent drunken commentary and laughing excessively. 

“Hey, hey.” Alexander poked John’s ribs, eliciting a giggle from the other man. “You know what would be fun?” 

John raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Pray tell,” he drawled, and for the first time that night, Alexander realized what a thick Southern accent John had. It made him feel giddy. 

“We. Should Order. _Pizza._ ” He beamed, as if he’d had the singular most mind-blowing idea ever. John laughed. “Yeah?” John nodded, still laughing. 

“Just cheese, though,” John said, almost seriously. 

Alexander shrugged. “Whatever you say, ami,” he said. He dug in his pockets until he found his phone, then handed it to John. “I uh. Don’t actually know the number for any pizza place around here.” 

John snorted and took the phone, dialing a number he’d memorized, which impressed drunken Alexander a great deal. “One large pizza. Mmm. Yeah.” He gave the hotel’s address and room number, and made a small click of affirmation before thanking whoever had taken his order and ending the call. “On the way, pretty boy.” 

Alexander hummed and giggled. _“Je suis un joli garçon_.” 

“What was that now?” 

“I _am_ a pretty boy,” Alexander all but purred. John swallowed and turned pink. 

The pizza boy came straight to their room and John paid for it with a few bills, mumbling something about keeping the change. He returned, triumphant, with a pizza box, which he plopped on the floor by the couch. Alexander slid down to the carpet to join him and opened the box while licking his lips. “Not as tasty as you, sweetheart,” John teased as he ate, strands of cheese dripping from his chin, which was already somewhat orange and red from the sauce. He wasn’t quite the picture of seduction, and Alexander laughed as he took a slice of his own. They ate in relative silence, the only attempt at conversation happening around mouthfuls of mozzarella and resulting in fits of giggles. They ended up on the floor, side by side, their fingers intertwined. 

“You’re warm,” Alexander slurred, smiling gently. “‘S nice.”

John merely hummed in response, dropping Alexander’s hand and propping himself up on his elbow. “Always been told I’m like a radiator,” he admitted. “Sucks during the summer.” 

Alexander laughed. “I bet. Nice now, though. It’s getting colder.” He moved in close again, his breaths against John’s collarbone giving rise to goosebumps across his skin. John hummed again, seemingly struggling with verbal communication. They were quiet for a moment, each too inebriated and full to contribute anything meaningful. “Stay,” Alexander said at last. 

John shifted to look at Alexander. His green eyes were clear, giving him the illusion of sobriety. “I shouldn’t,” he whispered, voice barely audible. “I’m going to go.” 

Alexander grabbed his sleeve, keeping him from standing immediately. “Let’s… do this again sometime. I had fun.” His heart was beating fast, but he felt fairly relaxed, for some reason. 

John stood when Alexander let him go. He smiled warmly at the man on the floor. “Definitely. Hey. C’mere.” He pulled Alexander up and hugged him, his face nuzzling Alexander’s neck. He pressed a gentle kiss against the side of his neck and pulled away. “See you around, _joli garçon.”_ He winked and held onto Alexander’s hand for a moment before pulling away. Alexander stood, somewhat dazed and confused, in the middle of his hotel room once John had gone, and he wondered how he was going to survive an entire movie with this man. 


	4. He Needs No Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex meets Hercules and goes shopping in the big city

Alexander awoke with a groan, his head pounding. He immediately regretted the poor decisions had led to this massive hangover. He rummaged in his backpack until he found some aspirin and took it, followed by a cup of tap water. He waited until everything stopped swimming so much before dragging himself to the bathroom to brush the taste of old alcohol from his mouth and shower. Nearly an hour later, when he was on his way to feeling like a proper human being again, he checked his phone. The volume of texts made his head hurt, again. 

_John Laurens: bro ily ur 2 cool were gonna have a fukkin blast making this movie yo_

_John Laurens: sleep good hammy whammy ;*******_

_John Laurens: dear god my head is killing me please end my suffering_

Alexander winced; if John’s hangover was anywhere near as foul as his own, the man deserved a little sympathy. 

_Hercules Mulligan: laurens drunk texted me last night_

_Hercules Mulligan: let me know if/when youre vertical_

Alexander groaned, knowing that he ought to see Hercules soon, but he couldn’t bring himself to text him back and let him know how stupid he’d been. 

_Lafayette: mon ami! I hope this finds you in good health! we are assembling to begin rehearsal next week at the studio; I hope you have been getting to know your colleagues :)_

_Angelica Schuyler: I’m fond of you, Alexander. So I’ll only warn you gently that if anything happens to my family, I will hold you personally responsible._

_Angelica Schuyler: Also, I had a lovely time at lunch yesterday. Let’s do that again sometime._

Alexander tossed his phone on the dresser and flopped back on his bed. Just one more quick nap. Then he would deal with the outside world again. 

When he woke next, it was dark outside. Alexander promised himself he would never drink so much ever again. Or at least, if he did, he wouldn’t be quite so stupid about it. He got to his feet and sent a silent thank you towards whatever deity was listening when his head didn’t spin. He retrieved his phone, finally willing to talk to people. 

_To Hercules Mulligan: Im alive again_

_To Hercules Mulligan: take me shopping tomorrow? I can be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed by 7 when Im not jet-lagged or hungover_

_Hercules Mulligan: lol sounds good, but 7 is too early for that bs_

_Hercules Mulligan: i will pick you up at 9_

_To Hercules Mulligan: see you then_

Alexander located the journal he’d bought and scribbled in it; he wrote about what details he could remember from the night before. He kept careful notes of what John had looked like, smelled like, felt like against him. He drew a rough sketch of John to the best of his ability, remembering at the very least his curls and freckles. He also made sure to write about what a flirt the man was. He could remember John pulling away as if he’d been burnt when Alexander had started to get at all emotional. He was just a friend. A very flirty drunk friend. That was all. 

————————— 

The next day, Alexander woke up early and with a clear head. He let himself pig out at the hotel’s continental breakfast, finally ready to get something accomplished. He was set to meet Hercules - whose name he still wasn’t totally sure was real - in a little over an hour, and the man had promised to take him through the Garment District and introduce him to ‘the threads of the city’, as Hercules had so eloquently put it. He hoped that he wouldn’t be criticized for wearing a plain T-shirt and jeans on his journey into the high fashion of New York City. 

As nine o’clock drew nearer, Alexander moved down to the lobby to wait for Hercules, his leg jiggling nervously. He texted the man, letting him know that he was ready to embark on whatever adventure he had planned for them today whenever he was ready. And, in case certain other coworkers hadn’t already told him, he made sure to let Hercules know what he was wearing so he’d know what to look for when he came to pick Alexander up for the day. 

“Alex!” Alexander looked up from his phone to see a large man with a bandana tied around his head speed-walking purposefully towards him with a large grin plastered on his face. Alexander stood up just in time for Hercules to wrap his arms around him and lift him off the ground in a rib-crushing hug. 

“Hello, Hercules,” Alexander managed. 

Hercules put him down, still beaming. “Good to finally meet you, man. Laurens drunk texted me a whole lot about you,” he said with a wink. 

Alexander rubbed the back of his neck. “I hope I live up to the hype, then. I bet I’m a lot more interesting when drunk, to be honest.” 

“If Lafayette and Laurens both like you, then that’s enough for me. Laurens can be biased towards the pretty ones, but I totally trust Laf’s judgement when it comes to folks, as actors and as people. So I know I’m gonna like you, but I do have to make my own judgements, y’know?” He shrugged and the bright smile returned to his face. “Now come on, I’ve got a _lot_ to show you.” 

As they walked through Manhattan, Alexander asked Hercules every question he could think of, at the man’s insistence that it would be a bonding exercise. “How did you meet John Laurens? You talk about him like he’s an old friend.” 

“That he is. I met him when he came up north looking at colleges. We got to talking. He told me that he wanted to be a biologist, or a botanist, something about turtles. We both got in, and I dragged him to drama club with me. I was on costumes, but told him he should at least audition for something. He got a part and was great, and then the next time he got a bigger part, and by spring of our freshman year he played a lead role. I got him to declare as a theatre major sophomore.” He leaned in close to Alexander and whispered conspiratorially, “I love our dear Laurens, but the man has a talent for acting he didn’t particularly have for science. He had a passion, and a skill for sketching wildlife, but want alone does not a professional make. What about you? How did you get into all of this?” 

Alexander shrugged. “Honestly? More than anything, it’s a way to escape into someone else’s life, away from my own. And then I found out it was a way to make a living. And a way to escape literally. Lafayette heard of me and eventually asked me to come to the States to work with him.” 

Hercules nodded, accepting of his answer. “Well, I’m glad you’re here now. You’re one of us, no matter what happens. Unless,” he said, tone shifting abruptly, “you hurt any of them. I’ve known them longer, and they’re closer to me than some of my own blood relatives. Then, I reserve the right to ruin you.” Alexander nodded dumbly. There seemed to be a lot of potential for dark vengeance in this crowd. It unsettled him from time to time, even if he had no intention of ever hurting any of these people. “Right, then, onwards! We’re gonna get you decked out in some custom threads, little man.” Alexander scoffed at the name, but said nothing. 

Hercules showed him around some of the best shops in the city, and introduced him to fellow tailors. He’d gotten his start as a costumer in high school, but worked in retail, slowly climbing his way up in the fashion industry until he’d found a job in New York’s own Garment District. From there, he’d worked on a few smaller films here and there, and was eventually able to go full-time with films and theatre productions in charge of costumes. 

The day wound down with petty gossip, each telling stories about nightmarish coworkers and on-set disasters. Hercules treated him to dinner and drinks, but this time they cut themselves off a couple of beers in, neither wanting very much to wake up with mouths and heads stuffed with the cotton-feel of a hangover. Hercules walked him back to his hotel, where he took hold of Alexander’s wrist before he left. “I know a lot of the people we’re going to be working with, and they’re good people. John Laurens, though, is like a brother to me. All I’m asking is that you be good to him. Treat him right, yeah?” 

Alexander nodded. “I will. Thanks, Hercules.” They said their goodbyes, and Alexander made his way up to his hotel room. He turned Hercules’ words over in his mind. Of course he would be good to John. The man was shaping up to be a good friend, and he would never hurt a friend. He knew he could be difficult, but he was loyal, and when he loved, he loved with all that he was. Platonically or otherwise. 


	5. First Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cast and crew meet for the first time to discuss the movie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so sorry for the late update! I moved and I've been in and out of the hospital and have had unreliable at best internet, so this is the first time I've had enough breathing room to type up and proofread and upload a new chapter. I hope you like it! (And as always, please tell me if there are any spelling, grammar, consistency, or formatting issues)

The rest of the week passed by in a whirlwind. He explored the city on his own, taking tours and sight-seeing and asking questions. He loved learning; his only regret regarding his career was that he’d been so swept up in it and in making sure he could afford his day-to-day that he’d never gone to school. When he was younger, there were on-set schools for the minors, but it had been brief and wasn’t exactly the best education he could have received. With the money from this movie, he thought, he could probably afford to go to university. Maybe even somewhere in New York; the city and the state were starting to grow on him. He’d grown up in France and Belgium and Nevis, but none of them had ever felt like home. New York didn’t yet either, but he felt like maybe it could. The city was just as non-stop as he was, and many of the people who’d already accepted him as one of their own lived here even when they weren’t working. New York felt like an answer to his prayers. 

He chatted back and forth with the people he’d met so far, but it seemed that none of their schedules lined up until they’d start rehearsal the following week. Peggy was a fan of excessive emojis, Angelica with her perfect spelling and grammar even via text kept Alexander somewhat in awe and in fear of her and her retribution should he scorn her or her family, Eliza was just as smiley via text as in real life, and even Maria’s messages oozed sexuality. 

The day they were all to meet at the studio arrived quicker than any of them had anticipated. They met in a large conference room above the actual studio where they would record their lines later on. The crew wouldn’t meet up with them until production began, so Hercules and Angelica wouldn’t be there. Alexander was the fourth person to arrive. Lafayette, of course, was there, along with a somewhat older man who was talking closely with him, and a man who looked particularly unamused with the whole situation, sipping a coffee in the corner. Alexander sat beside him, and he raised an eyebrow. 

“Alexander Hamilton,” he said, extending his hand. 

“Aaron Burr,” the man replied, taking his hand and shaking it. 

Alexander’s eyes widened before shutting them and groaning. “Burr! I’m so sorry, I got your text, I completely forgot to message you back.” He clapped his hands together. “Let me make it up to you?” 

Burr shrugged and waved his hand. “Buy me a coffee tomorrow morning, we’ll call it even.” He didn’t sound at all bitter, just nonchalant. 

“Okay,” Alexander said, nodding. “Well. What do you do?” He asked, trying to change the subject. 

“I wrote the screenplay,” Burr said. “I don’t know why they insist on my being here. They’ve already cut and butchered my writing, what else is left for me to do?” He huffed indignantly. 

Alexander raised an eyebrow. “Have you said anything about it?” 

Burr scoffed. “No, of course not. It’s not my place to tell anyone how to run their movie. But they tell me I’m here to ‘help ensure the director’s interpretation is somewhat aligned with my vision’.” He made air quotes with his fingers and rolled his eyes. “So here I am.” 

“I think that’s amazing,” Alexander said, smiling. “You get to see your words come to life. Sure, it may not be exactly what you wanted, but I think it’s great that you’re so involved. And if you have a problem with what they’re cutting, can’t you talk to them? It seems like they want you to be a part of the creative process at least a little.” 

Burr pursed his lips after then and turned away from Alexander. “For now I’m going to try and wait for it,” he said softly. 

“Wait for what?” 

But Burr was back to sipping his coffee and flipping through his personal copy of his screenplay in front of him, pen and highlighter by his hand. Alexander furrowed his brows, but let the man be. Over the next half hour, people began to trickle in. John waved at Alexander and sat beside him, the pair leaning in to talk excitedly about whatever they could. Peggy joined them a few minutes later, giggling as she pushed a chair in between them and plopped herself in it. 

Several other people that he didn’t recognize came in; one man with large, curly hair and a purple jacket looked like an odd cross between Lafayette and Morris Day strolled in, followed by someone who was similar in height and larger in his build, yet seemed small in comparison to the first. Something about the man’s aura of cocky overconfidence and perpetual gloating made Alexander’s skin prickle with annoyance. The Morris Day-cum-Lafayette impersonator spoke with Lafayette himself a moment, then turned to inspect those already in the room. He nodded once and turned back to Lafayette for a moment more before turning and leaving, his ridiculous coat swirling after him, and his sidekick mumbling something as he followed the first man out of the door. 

“Who was that?” Alexander asked, not even trying to keep the edge off his voice. 

Peggy sighed. “Thomas Jefferson. Executive producer. He’s in charge of the budget, so he was probably asking Lafayette some last-minute details about production cost. He can be kind of a prick, but we won’t be seeing too much of him. Now, James Madison on the other hand - that was the guy with Jefferson - may be floating around set a bit, but still mostly talking with more administrative-type people. Where Jefferson mostly works out the budget, Madison’s more responsible for making it happen. Fundraisers and things like that. Honestly, the most they’ll ask of us will probably just be to show up at events and look pretty so that we’ll get more money for the movie,” she explained. 

John leaned across Peggy and rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. “It’s a worthy cause, my friend,” he said with a wink. “We make this thing look good, we get paid big bucks, and other hotshots take note of us in the future. You may feel a little like a sell-out at first, but not having to worry about your financial situation? Totally worth it.” 

“Okay, _mes amis,_ let us begin!” Lafayette called, clapping his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “ _Monsieur_ Burr is our esteemed writer, and will be with us as we get to know our script.” He beamed at Burr, who tipped his coffee towards him. “Burr, _ami,_ would you like to tell our friends the plot of your wonderful script? Yes?” 

Burr stood and cleared his throat. “Yes, well, so,” he began, collecting up his papers. “It’s a fairly typical thriller. You know, a clear-cut hero,” he gestured to John, “an evil mastermind,” he waved at Alexander, “and the usual cast of characters. Margarita-” 

“Peggy,” Peggy interrupted. 

“Peggy,” Burr amended, “as our hero’s love interest, and Washington,” the older man Lafayette had been talking with nodded, “playing the part as the hero’s mentor.” He went on to discuss details of the plot and of character traits, personalities, backstories, and so on. Scripts were passed out at some point, and each of them went through their personal scripts with a highlighter, marking their lines and making margin notes about motivations and ideas. 

Once people began to finish and close their scripts, Lafayette stood again. “Now, as most scenes revolve around our dear Laurens, my advice to those of you who will be spending the majority of your on-screen time with our hero, practice lines with a partner - a friend or a fellow costar who perhaps has fewer lines - and we will arrange some kind of rotation when it comes to rehearsing one-on-one with Laurens.” There was a murmur of agreement, and people began to turn to one another, discussing tandem or even group practice. Washington approached Alexander. 

“It’s good to finally meet you, son,” Washington said, extending his hand. Alexander took it, staring at Washington with awe. “I’ve heard good things from our friend Lafayette.” 

Alexander grinned. “It’s an honor, sir. I look forward to working with you.” His heart swelled. He’d never had a proper father figure before, and Washington exuded paternal affection and a kind of wisdom that Alexander could only hope of achieving as he grew older. For a moment, thought of John disappeared, replaced by an overwhelming sense of hope for the future. 


End file.
